


Back To You Ficlet - Halloween

by balfeheughlywed



Category: Outlander (TV), Outlander Series - Diana Gabaldon
Genre: F/M, NSFW
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-10
Updated: 2018-10-10
Packaged: 2019-07-29 06:03:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,786
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16258175
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/balfeheughlywed/pseuds/balfeheughlywed
Summary: Set in the Back To You world, Jamie and Claire spend their first Halloween together at a costume party; smut ensues.





	Back To You Ficlet - Halloween

**Author's Note:**

> So this is the Halloween smut referenced in the first chapter of Back To You, Part 2. It is NSFW. Enjoy! Thank you for reading!

She should have known better than to ask Geillis for help in finding a suitable costume for Halloween. 

Jamie had mentioned it so casually one morning over breakfast  _ (“John is having his annual Halloween party in a few days, Sassenach; ye need to get a costume”), _ barely looking up from his iPad as he scrolled through it, his almond butter covered toast dangling from one hand.

She had looked up from the notecards she had been furiously flipping through before her quiz later that morning, forehead knit in confusion. “What do you mean I need to get a costume?”

He looked up then, taking a drink of his coffee before answering her. “I mean that ye need to dress up as something or someone else for his party. Did I no’ mention this already?”

“No, you didn’t. Jamie, I don’t really do costume parties. They’re not my thing.”

“What do ye mean they’re  _ ‘no’ your thing’? _ Everyone loves getting to wear a costume, Sassenach. Ye get to be someone else for a night. It’s fun.”

“Fun, hm? What  _ fun thing _ are you dressing up as then?”

“Oh, that’s a secret. I canna tell ye.”

“What do you mean you can’t tell me?” she asked indignantly.

He smirked at her, clearly amused by the color she could feel blushing her cheeks. “Ye’re cute when ye get all riled up like this. I never tell anyone what I’m wearing for Samhain, Sassenach. It’s better as a surprise.”

She crossed her arms across her chest, leaning back in her chair. “Fine. Then I’m not going to tell you what my costume is when I pick one out, either. In fact, you don’t even get to see it until the party. I’ll go with Geillis and you can meet me there.”

“Oh, like that, is it?”

“Mmhmm,” she nodded her head, biting her bottom lip to keep the smile from blooming as she saw his eyes spark at her words.

“Then ye better bring yer A game, Sassenach.”

“I always do, how do you think I landed you?” she retorted, shuffling her notecards together as she stood up, Jamie swatting at her bottom as she made her way towards the living room to grab her book bag.

“Ye little minx,” he laughed, standing up to bring her into his arms, the front of her body falling flush against his. He tilted her chin up with one hand, bringing his lips down to kiss her soundly, his tongue turning her giggles into something else.

She finally made her way to class  _ (late) _ and plopped down next to Geillis, informing her she needed her help with a costume for the party at John’s. Her mouth had quirked up, green eyes alight with mischief as she regarded Claire. “What kind of costume are ye thinking?”

“I don’t know, it doesn’t matter to me. Jamie wouldn’t tell me what he’s wearing, so I told him he couldn’t know anything about mine, either.”

“Oh, a wee competition, then? Leave it to me, Claire, I’ll find something that will blow his mind.”

She looked at Geillis suspiciously. “Okay, but something tasteful, please.”

“Oh, aye, it’ll be verra tasteful. I only have a couple of days, but I’ll whip something up. Come by my place around six on Saturday, and we’ll get ready there?”

She had agreed, but standing in Geillis’ bedroom three days later, she didn’t know why.

“I am not wearing that,” she said flatly, hands on her hips.

“Why no’? Ye’ll look smoking hot.”

“Why not?” she repeated, her voice a full octave higher than usual. “Jesus H. Christ, Geillis! I might as well go naked! What the hell were you thinking?”

“I was thinking that Jamie will fall over dead when he sees ye in this after he beats off every other guy there who hopes to cop a feel. It’ll liven the party up.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Claire muttered, gaping at the costume hanging from Geillis’ closet door. “I should have known better than to not suggest some costumes!”

“And what would ye have suggested?”

“I don’t know! Maybe a fairy or...or a witch. Not  _ that.” _

“A witch?” Geillis rolled her eyes. “How cliche. Who do ye think ye asked for help from here, Laoghaire Mackenzie? She may have dressed ye up like that, but then yer costume would have just been yerself as ye already are. No special clothes or mask necessary.”

Claire gasped, smacking Geillis on the arm. “Ugh! You’re terrible! I shouldn’t have even asked you for help at all!”

“Well, ye did. So it’s either this or a slutty nurse. Another costume that could have been  _ ‘designed,’” _ she made air quotes with her fingers, “for ye by Laoghaire. So put it on, sister, and suck it up.”

She glared at Geillis, grabbing the costume down from the door with a flourish, heading towards the adjoining bathroom and shutting the door firmly behind her. She changed slowly, staring at herself in the mirror once she was done, her cheeks turning red as she looked herself over.

A firm rap against the door startled her, Geillis’ voice practically singsonging through the hard wood. “Come out, come out, Princess Leia.”

Claire opened the door, only her head poking around the corner. “Couldn’t you have given me the white robe, buns and gun instead of the slave costume? That would have felt more politically appropriate.”

“Are ye so sure about that? Now come out, let me get a look at ye and yer goods before Jamie gets to. I need to do yer hair, too. Thank God ye straightened that beast before ye came over,” she muttered the last sentence, earning her another slap on the arm from Claire.

She sat down carefully as Geillis brushed and pulled her flat ironed hair into a high ponytail, her deft fingers expertly arranging her long strands into a braid. She secured the end with a gold wrapping before tugging playfully on the end of it. “All right. Up ye go. Let me see the full effect.”

She let out a long, low whistle as Claire stood up, the maroon panel of fabric swishing around her legs into place. She handed her a gold bangle, a smirk spreading across her face. “Put this on yer arm. Ye did an excellent job with yer makeup, not knowing what the costume was.”

“I just followed your instructions, though I didn’t realize they were leading to me being in a bikini in the frigid Scottish air.”

“Mm,” Geillis said, shrugging one shoulder as she stood next to Claire, grabbing a lipgloss and rubbing it across her lips. “It’ll be worth it. Jamie is going to lose it.”

Eyes twinkling as she examined herself in the mirror, she couldn’t help but giggle in agreement.

__________

It was like deja vu walking back up the long driveway to John’s home with Geillis next to her, only this time her friend wasn’t stumbling through cracks in the driveway wearing high heels.

Claire tried not to shiver as they walked up the stairs to the front door, rubbing her arms briskly as they got inside. The lighting was dim, the entire house well decorated for the holiday and party itself  _ (fake spiderwebs, candlelit jack-o-lanterns, bats and skeletons hanging from the ceiling and hiding in corners) _ as people dressed head to toe in costumes milled around.

“I have no idea how we’re going to find Jamie,” she said to Geillis, pushing the bangle back into place on her arm. The chills were subsiding  _ (thank god for indoor heating),  _ but she still felt slightly frozen.

“Maybe yer headbeams can light the way,” Geillis snorted, nodding towards her bikini top. Claire looked down to see her nipples pushing against the fabric  _ (hard, obvious, and embarrassing). _

“You’re lucky we’re in public, or I would take your Wonder Woman shield and bash your head in with it,” she smiled sweetly, fighting the urge to rub at her breasts and tame them down.

“Seeing as how yer nipples could cut through glass right now, they might stand a chance against the shield so I’ll thank my lucky stars for everyone around us. Judging by the looks ye’re getting from several of the men here, I’d say they’re grateful, too, but for an entirely different reason.”

“I’m really going to kill you later,” she hissed, looking around and making eye contact with an average height Dracula who quickly looked away when he noticed her eyes on him.

It only made Geillis laugh. “Come on, let’s go find yer boyfriend. I’m sure he’s by the bar with John and the rest of them.”

She was right; they were gathered around the makeshift island in the expansive living room, dark but for the glittering lights hanging around the ceiling and bar itself. Loud music was pulsing through the speakers, people laughing and dancing as they drank from orange and black plastic cups.

John spotted Geillis first, his eyes lighting up as he raised his cup to her, motioning for her to come over. Then his eyes drifted over her shoulder to Claire, and she watched as his jaw dropped.

He tapped Jamie on the arm twice to get his attention, turned around as he was talking to the bartender who was pouring whisky into cups  _ (his tall frame leaned over the countertop, his head going back slightly as he laughed at something that was said). _ He finally leaned in towards John when he nudged him again, his eyebrows furrowing together as she saw him say “ _ I said Claire is here,” _ nodding in her direction.

She wasn’t sure who was more shocked when he turned around, a smile already crossing his face before he even saw her. He did a double take as he took her in, his eyes moving down to her boot covered feet, up over her exposed legs  _ (the fabric swishing around her body as people moved around her), _ to her bare stomach and then her breasts, her cleavage pushed up and spilling over the cups of the bikini top. His eyes lingered there before moving over to the long braid hanging over her shoulder, finally making their way to rest on her face.

His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed hard  _ (once, twice), _ his eyes turning an obvious shade darker even in the barely lit room. He gave her a look that made her stomach clench and heat pool between her legs, her bottom lip landing underneath her teeth.

Taking her own deep breath, she let her eyes wander over him. It was almost a mistake.

He was dressed as a Highland warrior; there was no other way to describe it. He wore knee high leather boots, the cuffs of the socks underneath rolled over the tops of them; a kilt that fit perfectly, the folds along the back longer than the front, in a pattern she recognized as belonging to his family; a white linen shirt underneath a brown vest that was buttoned all the way up and showed off his broad chest, tied off with a brown leather belt tightened around his waist.

Breathless at the sight of him, she didn’t realize he had moved away from the bar until he stood in front of her, one hand reaching out to finger the silky braid of her hair. Letting it drop against her chest, he touched the gold bangle on her arm, his thumb grazing her breast.

“Are ye my prisoner tonight, Princess?”

She looked up at him through her lashes, her own hands moving to his waist, one palm running along the hard metal she felt there. “Well, you are wielding a sword here.”

“Which one are ye referring to?” he teased, making her cheeks blush deeper with color.

“Stop,” she laughed, stepping closer to him to let her fingers run along the fabric of his kilt. “I like this.”

“Oh, aye?” his mouth quirked up into that half-smile that made her heart pound and her breath come short.

“Aye. You look… rather dashing. This is the first time I’ve ever seen you wear one of these. I haven’t seen you in a suit yet, either, but I think I’d still pick this.”

He made a deep Scottish noise at that as he leaned down towards her, his mouth moving to the spot just behind her ear, planting a soft kiss there. “Just wait until you see the two combined.”

“Mm, I look forward to it,” she said, letting her hands rub up his chest before wrapping around his neck, her fingers playing with the curls at his nape.

“Are ye bringing this wee costume home with you?”

She pulled back slightly to look at him, his tongue darting out to lick at his bottom lip. “Unless I go home naked, yes. Why?”

“Because looking at ye in this… I have plans, Sassenach.”

“Oh, really? Do those plans end with this costume being ripped off of me?”

“I was actually thinking ye’d keep it on.”

She smirked at him, leaning up to whisper into his ear. “Why do we have to be at home for that?”

His eyes widened at her words, her eyebrows raising as she pulled away from him. “I think I’m ready for a drink,” she said, heading towards the bar, looking back over her shoulder to find him staring after her, a glint in his eye that she recognized all too well.

It didn’t take long for Geillis to pull her out onto the dance floor, drinks in hand. She could feel Jamie watching her from his place back at the bar, John saying something to him that earned him a glare and a shove, though the expression on his face was undeniably pleased.

A few songs later, she felt his hands on her waist, his palms running along her hips as he turned her around to face him. She let her body move against his, her hands sliding along his shoulders before circling his neck as he pulled her in closer, one hand sliding to the small of her back. The other moved down  _ (discreetly), _ past the fabric hanging in front of her legs.

Her breath hitched when she felt one of Jamie’s fingers run along the edge of her bikini bottoms before moving between her legs, running over the center of her through the fabric.

“What are you doing?” she whispered, glancing around to see if anyone was paying attention to them.

“Touching ye,” he whispered back, his breath hot against her skin.

“With all of these people around?”

“They’re no’ looking. Besides, no one can see what I’m doing,” he said, his fingers picking up their pace as he continued to rub her over her bikini bottoms.

Looking down, she knew he was right. The fabric of the two panels hid his hand from view, the material shielding her as she pressed closer against him. She could feel the hard length of him underneath his kilt, and she heard a whimper come from her mouth involuntarily.

“Does that wee noise of yers mean ye like this?”

“Yes. Touch me some more,” she said softly, biting down on her bottom lip to prevent another sound from coming out when he slipped a finger underneath her bikini, touching her sensitive skin.

Jamie groaned softly into her ear as their bodies continued to sway together, gently circling around her clit with his thumb, her body jolting into his at the feeling. “Ye’re already so wet. Do ye have any idea what I want to do to you?”

“Why don’t you tell me?”

He let out a shaky breath at the tone of her voice  _ (low, sultry, breathless), _ his thumb sliding along the length of her once more before he inserted one finger, moving it up and down slowly. “I want to take ye upstairs and find an empty room with a bed or a dresser.”

“That sounds like a promising start.” Her voice was caught between a sigh and a groan, her mind fighting her body’s urge to push her hips against his fingers.

He hummed, his chest vibrating against her body, sending a shiver down her spine. He pushed a second finger into her, hissing slightly when her nails dug into the skin of his neck. “Then I would turn ye around and bend ye over, before I move yer skirt to the side so I can take ye from behind.”

She jolted against him at his words, her body clenching around his fingers. “God, Jamie.”

She felt her pulse throbbing against the side of her neck, and wondered briefly how it would feel if Jamie were to lean down and suck against the skin there, leaving his mark behind. As if he had read her mind, he leaned down and pressed his lips against her pulse point, the stubble of his beard scratching her neck. Without thought, she pushed up against his cock, Jamie letting out a choked sound at her touch.

She pulled back suddenly, his fingers slipping out of her body. She caught the look on his face briefly  _ (eyes dark, glazed with lust, high cheekbones rosy from the feel of her body and his own words), _ before she grabbed his hand and tugged him after her towards a hallway she knew led towards the back set of stairs.

She didn’t turn back to look at him, afraid they wouldn’t make it upstairs if she did; she just grasped his hand tighter, feeling him squeeze back as she pulled him upstairs with her. They made their way down a long hallway, Jamie tugging her into a room, slamming the door shut behind them. She had only a few seconds to look around the room and take it in  _ (large bed, hardwood dresser, nightstand) _ before she heard the click of a lock, and then his hands and mouth were on her.

He sucked at the skin on her neck, his hands smoothing a trail over her stomach before moving up, cupping her breasts. He squeezed and kneaded them, his tongue licking a trail up to her ear as he pushed her back against the dresser. “I need ye,” he whispered.

She whimpered against him, her hands rucking the fabric of his kilt up to grasp the length of him  _ (hard, pulsing) _ with one hand, the other sliding around to cup one taut butt cheek. She could still hear the faint sound of the music downstairs, her and Jamie’s panting breaths and sighs filling the air between them. 

He covered her mouth with his, her tongue darting out to lick the swell of his bottom lip before biting down gently, his groan swallowed quickly by her tongue. Their hands were fighting for dominance over each other’s bodies, her chest bumping against his as she tried to create more friction between them.

Wrenching her mouth free from his, she took in the sight of him  _ (lips swollen and bruised, eyes heavy with lust, pulse thrumming rapidly in his neck), _ turning around in his arms so she could push her bottom against his front. Looking at him over her shoulder, she braced her hands against the edge of the dresser, hoping her legs wouldn’t give out on her. “I want you.”

His hands were on her hips then, pulling her back slightly to get her in position, the front of his kilt bunching up around her waist before she felt him move the material covering the back of her bikini bottoms to the side, the panties themselves shoved away next. He let his fingers drag along her opening, and she squirmed against his hand, pushing into him.

“Impatient, are ye?” he chuckled into her ear.

“Yes. Do it now, Jamie, and don’t be gentle.”

“Fuck,” he breathed, moving his hand away from her in order to help guide himself inside. He pushed in firmly, and she let out a grateful noise from deep within her throat as he stretched and filled her, the heat of him spreading over her from the inside out.

His hips began to move against her, setting a fast pace, his hands moving around to cup her breasts. She pushed back against him, her hands grasping the edge of the dresser so tight her knuckles began to turn white. She wasn’t aware she had made any kind of noise until Jamie cupped one hand over her mouth, his laughter filling her ear as he nuzzled her neck.

“I ken I’m good at this, Sassenach, but be quiet. I dinna want anyone hearing us and with the sounds ye’re making, the whole house will in a minute.”

She bit down on one of his fingers then and he yelped, his other hand tweaking her nipple in retaliation. She giggled, pulling his hand back to her mouth. She brought his thumb into her mouth, her tongue swirling around and sucking before scraping along his skin with her teeth as if it was his cock between her lips instead.

“Christ, Sassenach,” he hissed, and she sucked harder, clenching down around him as he thrust into her, white lights beginning to pop behind her eyes as his fingertips dig into her hips and ass.

She pushed back into him at just the right angle and she felt herself break, her orgasm ripping through her body as she tightened around his cock, Jamie beginning a nonsensical chant of curse words and Gaelic, his body pushing into hers once, twice more before he collapsed against her, their sweat slicked skin melding together as he found his own release.

He pushed his lips against the crook of her neck, his breath cool against her wet skin as he breathed her in. Still joined together, she looked up to meet his eyes in the mirror, his expression slightly dazed. She couldn’t help but laugh, one hand moving up to cup his cheek.

“That was…”

“Aye,” he agreed, chuckling against her skin, pressing a kiss against the inside of her wrist before pulling himself out of her gently, his kilt falling back into place on its own. He helped her adjust her costume then, his hands running along her hips. “Ye ken, Sassenach, for being my prisoner ye were rather bossy.”

“I didn’t hear you complaining. Besides, that just means you’re a bad captor.”

“Mm,” he said, “I guess ye’re right. Maybe we should go home and try this again.”

“Are you going to prance around with your sword?”

The smile that spread across his lips at her words was slow and easy. “Oh, aye. Both of them.”

She couldn’t help but laugh at him, moving up to kiss him on the lips. “Then let’s go home. Happy Halloween, my laird.”

“Happy Halloween, Princess.”


End file.
